


Livin' on a Prayer

by hannahch



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Desperation, F/M, Family, Loss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:18:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3181793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahch/pseuds/hannahch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arya Gale grew up amongst the members of Samcro, learning their ways early on. After her father's death, occurring during a Club run, she is left to find a way to fend for herself and her three younger brothers. Will the Club, and more importantly Jax, step up to the plate?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 'Don't Mean Nothing'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with my other fics, I'm going to title these chapters with songs that are related to the chapter in question - usually because I feel it highlights the mood etc. Please feel free to give them a listen (details will always be in the notes at the end of the chapter), and let me know what you think!

I was stood in front of the bar of the clubhouse, feeling like buckling under the collective glare of the majority of Samcro.

“I want in.” I said, exuding as much confidence as I could.

Jax’s jaw twitched, his teeth clenched, and he turned his head quickly to look away from me. Clay stood there, his moustache moving with the continued tightening and release of his lips as he thought. I couldn't help but look him straight in the eye, praying that he understood my motives and would take some kind of pity on me. He would know that this was not my first option, but more of a last resort. He knew my kid brothers were sat in my backseat outside, with empty bellies and no roof over their heads.

“No.” Jax growled as he straightened, his fist pounding on the worn wood of the bar in front of him.

Indignant, I threw my head back, my hair flipping around over my shoulder as I met his gaze. “Why not?” Inwardly, I was feeling anything but calm, but I knew from past experience, and growing up around these men, that anger was not the way to succeed in anything that I wanted.

“You’re a child.” He retorted, his face screwed up in near-disgust. “Why on earth do you think we would even consider-”

“I’m not a child,” I butted in. “A child doesn't have debts, or unpaid bills. A child doesn't have to bury their parent. A child doesn't have three hungry kids riding in their backseat, with nowhere to go. A child wouldn’t have to ask this of you.”

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself, Jax took a step around the bar towards me. “No.”

“So, what. You're going to stand there and watch as my brothers - three innocent kids - not only lose their father, but their home? Everything they've ever known, because I can’t provide for them?”

Clay threw a hand out to break Jax’s stride before he could advance any further. A moment of silent communication flowed between the two men and authority was pronounced. Jax stepped back a way, lowering his furious glare to the floor and thrusting his hands deep into his pockets. Clay looked up, indecision clear in his eyes. “You are a child, Arya. I know a lot of weight has been put on your shoulders, but you know why we have to say no.”

Fire rose up in my stomach. “Yeah,” I snarked. “It’s because I’m a girl.” When no one moved to correct me, I snorted. “I can fight. You know I can. I’m as good as anyone here.” I looked to Jax. “And you know it.” He looked up at me, recognition of this fact attempting to surface behind his blind determination. “My dad taught me to ride before I could walk. He didn't care that I wasn't a son.”

“This isn't the life your parents would have wanted you to have.” Clay reasoned.

“Fuck what they wanted.” I bit back. “They went and fucking left us, okay? This is about survival. I think they may have wanted the four of us to survive.”

Clay sighed in vague exasperation as Opie came up to me and took my arm. “Just think about what you're asking us to sign you up for,” he said.

“You think this was my first choice?” I asked, looking up into his eyes. Surely he would understand out of anybody. “I’ve been everywhere. No one will take me, or help me, because of my affiliation with you.” I shook myself out of his grasp and turned back to Clay. “My dad died for you. He believed that this was worth dying for, worth leaving his kids for. All I’m asking for is the same right, to follow through on his beliefs.”

Clay shifted his weight on his feet, glancing over at Jax for a split second, watching as his son shook his head minutely. He sighed heavily, turning back to face the rest of us. “Jax and I are in agreement. Do we have to cast a vote?”

There was a murmur amongst the other members and I watched as Tig and Juice shook their heads, followed by the others.

“Well,” Clay concluded, “that’s your answer, Arya. If there’s anything else we can help you with.”

“Fuck you.” I spat. “Fuck you all. I was raised to think of you as family. It’s good to know where you all draw the line.” I turned on my heel, and stalked out of the clubhouse towards my car.

As the door closed behind me, I swiped my forearm hastily under my eyes, determined not to let them see me break. My breathing was ragged as I marched towards the beat-up ‘76 Eldorado parked out front, its hood down, with my three brothers crammed together in the backseat.

I was suddenly aware of footsteps quickly gaining on me, and as I felt a hand touch my shoulder, I whipped around to come face to face with Jax. He was livid. Nostrils flared, teeth clenched, and eyes - that I knew could be kind and warm - cold. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me hard.

“What the hell was that?” he yelled. “You don't come in here and proposition us like that. You know your place.”

I pushed his hands off me, my lip curling into a snarl. “Yeah, I guess I do. My place is on the street corner, begging for food. My brothers? Their place is in a foster home. Probably getting beaten and molested. You've all done your part to make that perfectly clear.”

Jax looked taken aback. “That won't happen.”

“No?” I spat back. “You tell that to the pile of bills in the passenger seat. Or the social worker who won't get out of my ass.” I took a deep breath, fighting back tears. “That car, and everything in it? That’s all I have left. And I can’t keep it together on my own. All I’m asking for is some help.” He went to open his mouth, but I jumped in. “I don't want charity, and I don't want pity. I just want to be able to do right by my brothers. That’s all.”

Jax took a moment to think, his gaze sliding between my tear-glazed eyes, and the three faces I knew would be poking up over the side of the car. “You thought of getting out of Charming?”

I shrugged, hopelessly, “And going where? Our lives are here. This is all we’ve ever known. We don't have anywhere else to go.”

“Your grandparents in Ohio...”

I let out a short sharp laugh. “Yeah, they wired us a hundred bucks, said my dad got what he deserved, and told me to lose the number.” I stopped for a second, taking Jax’s hand in both of mine and looked up at him. “Please, Jax. I’m out of options. Tell me what I should do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! First up on this playlist is 'Don't Mean Nothing' by Richard Marx. This song is about rejection, and it helped to make Arya's feelings of rejection and betrayal here more tangible to me, and therefore easier to write.


	2. 'Under The Bridge'

"What are we waiting for?" Tazo asked as he gripped the back of my headrest, rocking forward to lean his chin on the top of my head.

I closed my eyes and reached back, running my fingers through his soft curls. "Jax." I said. "He's clearing his schedule for a few hours, then he’s going to come with us. Okay?"

"Okay," he sighed, his breath ruffling my hair.

Opening my eyes, I turned around in my seat and looked back at my little brothers. "We'll get something to eat soon, yeah?" I murmured, taking in their gaunt cheeks, my chest tightening. The three of them looked ill; grief and confusion was mixed in well with the hunger, and with nowhere to go, the four of us had been running low on sleep due to the lack of stretching room in the car. The past few weeks was etched on to their young faces, creeping into their eyes, and there was a part of me that was afraid that nothing would be able to eradicate them.

The three of them nodded, Tazo then throwing himself back in his seat and crossing his arms with a huff, whilst Kyros and Pim turned to look over the rim of the right hand side of the car, watching for any familiar figures to emerge from the clubhouse.

Chibs was the first to cross the threshold from the shadowed interior into the bright glaring sunshine. He paused for a moment, squinting in the light as he rearranged his sunglasses on his face, his brow furrowing deeper as he caught my eye. Letting out a deep sigh, he began to wander across the lot towards the Eldorado. He loped with a steady, calming pace, and I knew that, regardless of how much I had been resolved against it, I couldn’t stay mad at him.

“Hey, lassie.” He rumbled soothingly as he approached the car. He flung a smile into the back seat, waving. Pim grinned back, hopping over Kyros to throw himself at the man, his short arms encircling Chibs’ neck. “Hello, little man.” Chibs exclaimed, wrapping his arms tight around the little boy’s body before returning his gaze to me, over Pim’s shoulder. “I’m sorry the way things went down in there. I know you wouldn’t have come if you didn’t need us.”

I snorted, rubbing Pim’s back, indicating that it was time to return to his seat. “Yeah, tell that to Clay.” I murmured, as my youngest brother released Chibs and clambered back over Kyros, elbowing Tazo in the process of sitting down. A small kerfuffle exploded in the back seat, but I ignored it, instead keeping my eyes locked on Chibs. “Maybe he’ll listen to you, with you having a dick and all."

He shot me a warning look, hastily followed by a playful grin that lit up his face and highlighted his half-moon scars and a soft chuckle. “You better watch yourself, Ary girl.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, “What. I’m meant to be afraid of Clay?”

He shrugged noncommittally. “Depends on where you’re choosing to stand with him.”

Before I could reply, the passenger side door of my car opened and Jax flung himself into the seat, retrieving the pile of envelopes that sat there before he crushed them. He threw me his signature smirk, and looked up at Chibs. “Hey bro. Mind if I steal these guys away?”

Chibs chuckled throatily, “Aye man. We were just saying hi.” He tossed a wink in my direction before turning on his heel and making his way across the parking lot, back to the garage.

Jax leaned his shoulder against the door, his body turned towards me. “You okay?”

I shrugged. “Same as when you last asked.”

“What was that about?” He jerked his head in the direction that Chibs had headed.

I looked at him, a slight smile on my lips. “Nothing that concerns you.” I answered, hoping that he’d let me leave it at that. He didn’t.

“Come on, A. Was he causing trouble?”

At that, I downright guffawed. “Chibs? Are we talking about the same guy? The guy who taught me to braid my hair after Ma passed? The one who let me practice makeup on him when I was twelve?” I raised my eyebrows at him. “Come on, Jax. Be serious. He wouldn’t be able to cause me trouble if he tried.”

Jax smirked a little, “Yeah I know.”

I reached over and grabbed his knee, stroking my thumb gently across the denim of his worn and battered jeans a few times. “I appreciate you trying to stand up for me though. But you know you don’t have to when it comes to these guys.”

Jax’s smirked widened into a small smile. “Yeah.” He said, his hand moving to cover mine. “So, you gonna drive or what?”

I grinned, pulling my hand back and placing it on the wheel. “Where to, Cap’n?”

 

Driving the dusty roads of California had always been a comfort to me. The night my mother died, I jumped onto my bicycle and cycled around the town for hours, ending up just outside the town limits, only found hours later by Chibs who - along with the rest of the crew - had been sent out to find me. The day my father remarried, I coerced Jax into letting me borrow his bicycle - mine having been forbidden and later sold after the last incident - and I cycled until I reached the boundaries of the next town over, then sat and waited to see how long it took for a club member to find me. This time, it was Bobby, and it was a good half-day. He left me at my front door late into the night. The night of my first break-up, I drove for hours. I made it to Los Angeles and parked up along the beach and just breathed. No one found me that time. I returned the next day, and I will never forget the chastisement that I received, not only from my father but from his fellow club members. If I remember correctly, Jax wouldn’t look at me for two weeks.

Sitting here with everything that, in that moment, I felt I had left in the world with me, somehow made some sense to me. What was to stop me from ignoring Jax’s directions and just hitting the highway? What was stopping me from leaving this dusty backwards town behind? Indecision played through my mind and I tapped my fingers rapidly against the steering wheel. The pull to up and leave Charming was almost undeniably strong, but even as my instincts were leading me to the highway, my eyes jumped to Jax sat in my passenger seat. He had too much here for me to pull him away.

My internal quandaries were apparently made obvious to Jax, who cleared his throat. The sudden sound caused me to jump, throwing my train of thought off its tracks.

“You actually gonna move here, darlin’? I know it’s a stop sign, but they don’t mean forever.”

“Shit.” I murmured under my breath. “Sorry. Got distracted.”

Jax laughed. “I’d gathered as much.”

There was a pause as I attempted to recollect myself before putting the car back in gear and hitting the accelerator. As we moved off down the road, crossing the junction as per Jax’s instruction, he spoke again.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“About what?” I said noncommittally, shrugging a little.

“Whatever it was that had you stuck at that stop sign.” I sniffed, checking my mirrors, more for something else to do than anything else. “Not really.”

 

We pulled up to Jax’s house ten minutes later. I parked alongside the curb outside and cut the engine. Taking a deep breath, I turned to him and smiled tentatively. He reached over and took my right hand in his and squeezed it gently, smiling.

“It’s okay.” he said, carefully taking in my expression.

I nodded, a little uncertainly, “I know. I just don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“Arya. You asked for help. I’m doing what I can - what I want to.” he added as he saw me about to protest. “You know me,” he said, running his thumb across the back of my hand. “I don’t do anything I don’t want to.”

I gave him a half-shrug, “I guess that’s true enough.”

He grinned back before turning to my brothers. They had all remained silent throughout the trip here, which was unusual, but turning around, I saw they were all wide-eyed and taking in their new surroundings. Jax chuckled. “How about we get you guys in, and sort out something to eat?”

Pim sat bolt upright, “Grilled cheese?” He asked hopefully.

“Pim.” I reprimanded, uneasy about overstepping our mark.

Jax nudged me, throwing a ‘give him a break’ look out of the corner of his eye. “You know what?” He said to my youngest brother. “I bought some new bread yesterday, and I’m pretty sure that my grill is up and running.”

Pim grinned and clapped his hands in excitement as Kyros and Tazo looked on in contentment.

“Does that sound alright for everyone?” Jax asked, looking around the car. The two other boys nodded enthusiastically, and I smiled.

“That sounds great.” I said.

The five of us climbed out of my car and Jax led the boys up the path to the front door, whilst I reached into the boot for our lone duffle bag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, 'Under The Bridge' by Red Hot Chili Peppers. Sometimes, you just can't say it better than these guys. This is a song about wanting to move past something that has overtaken your life - in Anthony Kiedis's case, it was drugs, but I think the meaning can be more generalised than that.


	3. 'It Will Come Back'

Once the boys were settled down to their grilled cheese sandwiches, Jax nudged my elbow and jerked his head over his shoulder in a gesture that asked me to follow him. He led me through the house and out into the garage. He opened the door and paused on the threshold, letting out a small sigh.

“I forgot how many boxes there were.” He said, pushing his hand through his hair, forcing it back into place behind his ear. “I haven’t really been back since Wendy left.”

I looked over at him, concern creeping through me. I reached out to touch his arm, but thought better of this action before I made contact and my hand fell uselessly to my side. I frowned a little, “Are you sure this is okay, Jax? Really, this isn’t what I meant when I said I needed help. It’s-”

“For fuck’s sake, Arya.” He bit out, whirling to meet my gaze. “For the millionth and last time. Of course it’s okay. I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t want it. Okay?” His glare never faltered from my eyes, whilst my eyes flitted around his face in an attempt to read his expression. He had always been good at concealing his emotions, but once you knew him well, there were tell-tale signs that became recognisable. The twitch in his jaw was enough to tell me that he was agitated, frustrated, and from the way he was staring unblinkingly at me, I knew that he was not going to back down without a fight. When I nodded, he let out a deep breath through his nose and his face softened. “You need help. Just let me help you.”

“Okay,” I croaked. A sudden wash of tears threatened to overcome me. It was hard to tell where they came from or what brought them on, but the look on Jax’s face was one that I hadn’t seen in far too long. Genuine concern. My lower lip trembled as I looked down at the floor of the garage, swallowing back as much of my emotion as I possibly could. But this was to no avail. The first rebellious tear leapt over my eyelashes and scored a path down my cheek. I didn’t move to wipe it away. I just let it take its course, along with the others that followed its lead.

I couldn’t bring myself to look up at Jax in my moment of weakness, but I saw his feet come within my water-blurred vision. His fingertips trailed across my jaw, pausing at my chin to tilt my head upwards, forcing my gaze to meet his. I looked away almost immediately, closing my eyes as the silent sobs took over my body completely, rattling every bone I had. I felt him wrap his arms around me and I nuzzled my face into his neck, my cheek lying against the leather of his kutte. I breathed in his scent of leather, motor oil and tobacco, with something running underneath it all that was indescribable - just completely Jax.

He didn’t offer any words of comfort, but I didn’t need to hear any. He knew that the less acknowledgement of my moment of weakness there was, the more likely he was going to be allowed to continue helping me. I had grown very good at shutting people out when I felt it necessary. One of my strengths at times, but the rest of the time I had been known to openly acknowledge it as one of my more major flaws. Maybe even my fatal flaw.

“I just…” I started, tears clogging my throat, causing my voice to come out muffled. “I hate this.”

“Hmm?” He asked, pushing me back a little, so he could hear me. “What?”

I cleared my throat softly, swallowing before meeting his gaze. “I hate this, Jax.” I shook my head, rolling my eyes a little and looking away. “I don’t want to be a burden on anyone. I’m twenty. I should be able to do this.” I forced air deep into my lungs and let it out in a shaky breath. I couldn’t meet his eyes having looked away. The weight of the past few weeks was crowding in on me, and the enormity of what he was doing for me was almost too much. “I should be able to take care of them."

He didn’t have to ask who I meant, he didn’t have to insist that I accepted his help because it seemed that I had agreed, he just pulled me close again as the tears restarted. I could feel his heart beating next to my cheek, feel his chest moving as he breathed. I began to try and pace my breathing with his. It was something I had been doing since I was a child. Riding on the back of his bicycle, then his motorcycle, I would wrap my arms tight around his waist, pressing my chest to his back to feel the rhythm of his breathing. I couldn’t begin to explain why it had such a calming effect, just feeling him breathe, but in the worst of times that was all I needed.

“It’s gonna be okay, A,” he murmured against my hair. “We’ll figure this out.”

I choked out a sob and nodded against his neck. There was little else I could do in my current state to confirm that I was convinced to a certain extent. He continued to simply hold me against me while my tears ran their course, then pulled the cuff of his hoodie over the back of his hand and used it to wipe my face dry as I went to move out of his arms. I looked up into his face and gave him a weak smile. The last thing he needed right now was to have to hold me together as well, I was already asking too much from him.

“Sorry,” I whispered through my watery smile. I sniffed, running the edge of my hand under my eyes, and turned to face the garage. “What can I do?”

Jax was quiet and I knew that he was still watching me concernedly, but after a moment he seemed to believe that I wasn’t about to break down again. “Uh,” he moved to my side, his hand moving to his hair, pushing it back, and running his fingers to the base of his skull and resting his palm on the back of his neck. “I guess we need to find the camp beds first. I’m pretty sure I have two in here. My mom has one that I know of, so that’s the boys sorted. You and I may have to share for a night or two while we sort out something more permanent for you.” He seemed nervous about this last part.

I took his arm, the corner of my lip lifted in a half-smirk. “Jax. We’ve shared beds before now.”

He looked down at the ground, shuffling his feet across the garage floor, dust collecting up on the toes of his white sneakers. “Yeah,” he said finally. “But that was when you were like ten.”

I barked out a sharp laugh. I couldn’t believe that the sleeping arrangements were what he was getting uncomfortable about out of this whole fucked up situation. I slapped a hand on his shoulder, “It’s alright babe. I think I trust you.”

He grunted a half-committed consent and moved across the storage area towards the boxes, starting to sort through them. I followed, moving to the opposite side, opening the box closest to me.

 

* * *

 

An hour or so later, we had located the two air mattresses and were looking for bedding to go along with them. Gemma had been contacted and she was on her way over with what she could find in her house.

Jax’s phone rang out, blaring out AC/DC’s ‘Highway to Hell’.

“I gotta take this,” he said, glancing down at the screen that was flashing ‘CLAY’.

“Sure thing,” I said. “Could I bum a smoke?”

He grinned at me, “I thought you gave up?”

I shrugged, “Yeah, I did. But stress does things to you.”

He laughed softly. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” He reached inside his kutte, pulling out a full pack of cigarettes and threw them to me. “Keep ‘em,” he told me before picking up his phone. “Yeah.” He spoke into the receiver as he walked out of the garage, throwing me a wink as he went.

I knocked a cigarette out, putting it to my lips before following him out into the front yard. I took a seat on the drive with my back against the garage door, looking down the driveway and - much like I always did - admired my car as it sat parked in the sunshine.

My dad had bought it back before he had joined the club. He had been sixteen at the time, and the pride in owning his own car had carried through life with him, meaning that when I reached the age to learn to drive, he pulled his old car out from storage and handed me the keys.

“She’s an old gal,” I remember him telling me. “Take care of her and she’ll take care of you. She’s a loyal girl that one.”

I had done my best. Her chromes shone, her paintwork was flawless, and the engine was gleaming. She had just begun to look a little tired, but I guess reaching your forties would do that to most girls.

I pulled my lighter out of my jeans pocket. Normally I would have been wearing a maxi-skirt in this heat, but I had opted for the only trousers I owned in an attempt to fit in more at the club. Screw that, I thought. The second I had finished my cigarette I was going in to change. I would come up with another source of income.

Lighting the cigarette, I lay my head back against the warm tin door and stretched my legs out in front me. I could hear Jax on the phone around the corner, but I didn’t work to make out individual words. The soothing tones of his voice, even in the state of agitation that he was working himself into with Clay, was the only thing I could hear. The neighbourhood was silent. Perhaps that should have seemed strange, but in this moment it seemed fitting. Jax and I were in this together now, completely alone from anyone else. He was all I had to rely on.

Taking a drag, I could almost feel the smoke clearing my lungs; burning through all of the things I hadn’t got the chance to say or scream or express in the past few weeks. I still didn’t understand how the fire at the house had started. All I knew was that by the time I got to the living room, my dad was a figure of flames emitting the occasional scream of agony.

I closed my eyes. No child should have to see that; see their parent die in pain. I had worked hard to make sure that the three littlies didn’t catch sight of the flaming corpse on our hurried way out.

By the time we had reached the front yard, the flames were licking up the side of the house, reaching fiery arms around the top floor to fully envelop the house in their deadly embrace.

Sitting here, I saw the irony that a fire had driven me to smoke again. Give me a few years and maybe there would be a hint of humour in that realisation.

Finishing the cigarette, I stood and began to make my way inside. I had left our duffle bag in the living room, so that was where I headed. Passing through the kitchen, I was surprised to find Kyros sat at the table, studiously engrossed in a Math exercise book.

“You doing alright there, buddy?” I asked, placing my hand on the top of his head.

He shook me off, retaining his gaze on the page in front of him, pencil poised to quote an answer that was currently churning through his brain. “You need to stop that.” He said, “I’m nine. I’m not a baby.”

Taken aback, I was silent for a moment. “Okay,” I murmured, my heart cracking a little at the blatant rejection. “I’m sorry.”

He fell silent, not even acknowledging whether or not he had heard me. So I began to walk away, hoping a little that he would call me back. When he didn’t, I carried on through to the living room to collect the duffle bag. I rifled through it, past all my brother’s clothes to find my own buried deep at the bottom. I pulled out a pale blue high-waisted maxi skirt that buttoned down the front. It had been my ma’s back from when she was a teenager. The worn denim now hung soft and light, threadbare in places, with the occasion patch worn through to tatters. Digging further I found a black sleeveless cropped shirt, with gold buttons running down the front. Bundling the two together, I grabbed a black leather belt and carried them through to the bathroom that was at the end of the hallway.

Closing the door, I rested my forehead against the wood and squeezed my eyes shut. Kyros had never been good at reaching out when he needed help or support; he squirrelled himself away inside his own head, and only his mother had been able to prise him out. I was trying with all my might to reach him, but he refused my hand each time it was outstretched. I knew that eventually he would find his own way out, his own way of coping with what we were going through, but I hated playing the waiting game. Especially when the pain was evident on his face whenever he thought no one could see: the split second that I turned away from tucking him in at night, I would catch a glimpse of his hollow eyes and it broke my heart every time.

Tazo and Pim were too young to fully comprehend our situation, but I knew that Kyros had read the bills and ‘FINAL WARNINGS’ over my shoulder as I opened them in the front seat of ‘Dora’, and I knew that he understood what it meant when I hurriedly stuffed the pages back into their envelopes with quaking breaths and carried on driving. He knew that I couldn’t keep our broken family afloat and I think he resented me for it. I had always been the big sister who promised that he could have the world, but when it came down to it I couldn’t even keep a roof over our heads or food in our bellies. I would never blame him for losing his faith in me, I just prayed that one day I would be able to earn it back - maybe draw more than a wordless reply or a shove away from him.

Turning to face the room, I stripped out of my jeans and tank top, pulling on the looser fitting clothes that I had selected, catching the front hem of the shirt in the waistband of the skirt before running the belt around to hold it.

I took a moment to try and recollect myself, splashing cold water on my face and removing the traces of make up that I had carefully applied this morning. Bare-faced seemed to be the order of the day.

Taking a breath, I opened the door and headed back to my work in the garage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'It Will Come Back' by Hozier is next on my list here. Beautiful song about how inviting something unwanted in will just make it come back to you because it finally realises there's something better. He then claims that he is the unwanted creature that he's begging someone to chase away, and that by feeding him (I infer feeding him with love) he will without a doubt return. Breaks my heart, but at the same time it speaks to me on every level. I thought it was a perfect song for this chapter - Arya has finally realised that Jax isn't chasing her away and she maybe begins to settle in his home. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this! Sorry, it took so long to get up... I'm staying with family who have just moved into a new house so there is no wifi, and I'm abroad so I'm piggybacking on everyone's 3G!! Hopefully I'll have my own sorted soon and it won't be such a long wait.
> 
> Please comment! Reviews and CC are very welcome! x


	4. 'Who Says You Can't Go Home'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I wanted to apologise for the delays in posting... I'm currently travelling around Australia and the Wi-Fi is patchy at best, so I'm currently sat in a cafe (with my laptop for the first time!) and thought I'd update what I have ready to go so far so this chapter is smaller than I'd originally planned but oh well :) hope you guys enjoy xx

I had finally routed my way through the majority of the boxes stacked against the back wall in Jax’s garage and had unearthed the sheets for the air mattresses. I was bundling these together, ready to take them through to the kitchen where I was planning on starting a wash. The layer of dust that had gathered in the months that the boxes and their contents had been left undisturbed stood a few millimetres thick and I was more than convinced that a considerable amount had wormed its way inside the boxes as well as coating the exteriors.

I heard Jax’s heavy loping tread from a distance, and straightened as he filled the doorframe. Even though we stood a far way away from each other, I still had to look up to meet his eyes and send him a warm smile.

“Hey darlin’,” he said, leaning his shoulder against the door frame and moving his weight to rest on one foot. “I’m gonna go see Abel and then I’m needed at the clubhouse. You guys gonna be alright here?” Regardless of my affirmation, he continued. “Gemma will be here at some point this afternoon with whatever she can dredge up from hers, and I don’t think I’ll be too late. So you guys shouldn’t be on your own too long.”

“Jax.” I took a step towards him, adjusting my armload so that I had a hand free to grasp one of his. “We are more than okay here. You’ve seen to that. We’re fed, we’ve got beds, and somewhere to call our temporary home. We’re gonna be fine.” I smiled up into his face, allowing it to widen when the corners of his mouth quirked upwards. “Go. Dinner will be ready whenever you get home.”

He laughed. “A home cooked meal, huh? Hasn’t been one of those in this house for a while.”

“I think it’s the least I can do.” I said, shrugging. “Plus, Gemma keeps your fridge pretty well stocked. It’d be a shame to let that go to waste.”

He laughed, “Ain’t that the truth.”

I let his hand go and ran my fingers through my hair, pushing it back off my cheek. His eyes lowered from mine and rested around my jaw. My brows creased a little, my hand flying up a little to figure out what had grabbed his attention, but his fingers beat mine to my skin. Wrapping a flyaway strand of hair around his index finger, he ran his thumb over it for a moment before tucking it neatly behind my ear. Once he had done this, he caught my eye. A faint flush coloured his cheeks and he dropped his gaze, clearing his throat once and taking a step back away from me.

“I’d probably better get goin’,” he said, shuffling his feet against the concrete. He raised his eyes to me and flashed a playful if slightly nervous grin, “If I’m gonna make it back for dinner.”

I laughed and pushed against his shoulder. “Go.” He turned to leave, but I called him back. “Hey, wait. I’m doing a load,” I said, indicating the pile of bed clothes that was now tucked under my arm. “You got anything to throw in with it?”

He raised his eyebrows, “Uh, yeah prob’ly. Um, there’s a basket in the bathroom? By the sink? I guess it’ll all be in there.”

“Cool, I’ll get on that.” I said, starting to move towards the door that led back into the kitchen.

“Thanks.” Jax called after me.

I tossed a small smile over my shoulder as I stepped over the threshold into the house, “No worries, hon.” I heard the door close behind him as he left, and carried on through to the washing machine. I stopped in front of it, beginning to load it as I tried to figure out the number of assorted dials and buttons. It was one of the newer digital style ones. What’s wrong with the simple ones? I thought. Technology and I did not always get on. I was much better with the older models - much like with the cars I worked on - where when something went wrong, you didn’t need a fucking computer to fix it. Give me a vintage car any day.

I shook my head and went through to the bathroom to collect Jax’s washing. I’d figure that thing out in a minute. I took the lid off the basket and watched as the top layer of clothes erupted out on to the floor, and snorted softly. It looked like he couldn’t figure that infernal contraption out either.

“Ky?” I called as I shoved the escaped items of clothing back into the basket and lifted it to carry it through to the machine. He was much better at figuring out these things than I was. “Ky?” I tried again as I walked down the hallway. I saw he wasn’t at the kitchen table as he had been before, but his books were still spread out on the table top. “Kyros?” I tried again.

There was still no answer as I put the basket down. I frowned. I knew that he was still mad at me, but that didn’t usually stop him from answering me if I called him - he was just uncooperative and full of attitude. I wondered through to the living room, and then through to the bedrooms. Pim was the only one that I found. He was lying on his stomach in front of the television, completely engrossed in Sesame Street. I sighed a little, a smile playing on the edges of my lips, as I leant down and pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. 

“You okay there darlin’?” I asked, running a hand through his soft mop of brown curls. 

He nodded, distractedly. “Mmm.” He affirmed, his eyes never leaving the screen.

I straightened and left the room before I managed to somehow warrant him to ask me to leave. Walking over to the back door, I peered out and a grin split across my face. Leaning against the door jamb, I watched as Kyros and Tazo set up two makeshift goals and began to kick a slightly deflated football between them. The small scene that held so much normalcy warmed my heart, giving me hope that the four of us would pull through.

Tazo glanced up and, upon seeing me in the doorway, raised his hand and waved, a large grin lighting his drained face up, giving an illusion of life in his cheeks. I waved back, grimacing sympathetically at him as his distraction cost him a point, Kyros forcing the ball to glide straight past Tazo’s right leg and through the centre of the two plant pots. Kyros whooped in delight as Tazo groaned loudly, turning to collect the ball.

The doorbell rang, cutting through the house with a triumphant chiming. I pushed away from the doorframe and wandered through the house, a smile still spread across my face.  Upon opening the door, my smile widened. 

“Gemma,” I said, wrapping my arms around the woman’s neck.

She put an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “Hello, baby,” she greeted me. “How you doing?”

I pulled back, and stepped to the side to allow her entry into the house. “We’re better, I think. Jax is seeing to that.”

A soft smile graced her mouth, “So I hear.” She gestured to the basket that was tucked under her arm. “I have everything I could find that might be of use to you, including some clothes for you and the boys.”

“Oh, Gem. You shouldn’t have."

She placed a hand in the small of my back, “Don’t be silly, baby. You’re family. What else would I do?” She gave me a gentle push in the direction of the kitchen. “How about some coffee?” She said.

“Sure, I’ll put some on.” I said, passing Pim still lying prone in front of the television. I ran a hand through his hair, and walked through to the kitchen to put the coffee machine on. Loading the water, I could hear Gemma talking to Pim.

“Hey, little man. How are you doing?”

“I’m good, Gem,” he said quietly. “We had grilled cheese for lunch.”

“Oh yeah? I hope Jax didn’t make them for you!”

“Why?”

“Because he usually burns them.”

Pim burst into laughter, and I could picture him rolling gently on the floor. “No! Ary made them. She puts ketchup in them.”

“Ah,” Gemma replied. “Is that your favourite, baby?”

“Yeah. It’s how her mommy used to make them. My mommy wasn’t very good at it.”

I smiled, Yasmin had never quite got the hang of the kitchen. But by the time she and my Dad had met, I had grown capable enough to keep edible food on the table, so the responsibility had fallen to me. Though she did offer to help at holidays and when there was more than our family at our table. Most of the time, I kept her to peeling potatoes and chopping vegetables. Her forte was more in the cocktail area, which came in useful at holidays and her job as a bar tender in the local bar.

Gemma and Pim kept chatting as I scooped the ground coffee into the filter and switched the machine on. It gurgled for a moment before settling into a quiet humming rhythm. I turned and leaned against the counter top, looking out of the window to watch Kyros and Tazo playing.

For the first time in far too long, I was beginning to feel safe. It started to feel like _home_.

 

* * *

 

Gemma helped me set up the three camp beds in the spare room. There was no bed in there yet, but Jax had set up a small desk and computer in there, though it was obvious that it had been little used from the pristine state of the table top. No coffee cup rings, or papers scattered around. In fact, there was a slight layer of dust collecting on the keyboard, settling in between the keys. 

“Have you got enough sheets for these?” Gemma asked, straightening the sheets that she had brought on one of the mattresses. 

“Yes,” I said, “I’m waiting for Kyros to help me figure out the washing machine.”

Gemma laughed. “Is it one of the new ones?”

I nodded. “Give me a car any day.”

She laughed again, “Come on, baby. I’ll have a look.”

I smiled a little, “That would be great.”

We went through to the kitchen to find Tazo on a chair, balanced in the fridge reaching for the milk on the top shelf. 

“You okay there, buddy?” I asked, laughing.

He turned to me, cheeks flushed in frustration. “I can’t reach it.”

“That’s okay, darlin’.” Gemma said, reaching around him to take the carton off the shelf. “You want a glass of milk?” He nodded. “Cookies?”

Tazo’s face lit up. “Yes!” He exclaimed, adding “Please.” as he saw my raised eyebrows.

I helped him down, and he ran to Gemma’s heels as she got a glass down from one of the cabinets and filled it half way for him. Returning the chair to the table, I reached to put the milk back in the fridge when I felt a gentle tugging at my skirt. Looking down, I saw Pim with his eyes upturned to me hopefully.

“Milk and cookies?” He asked.

“Nothing gets past you, huh, buddy?” Gemma answered, taking another two glasses down. “Do you want to go and get your brother and tell him it’s snack time.”

Pim nodded, running out of the kitchen calling for Kyros. He returned a minute or so later with Kyros hot on his heels, and once the boys were settled at the table with their glasses of milk and the cookie jar, Gemma turned to me. 

“So, we were gonna get a wash on,” she said, indicating the machine.

“Yeah, that would be fantastic.”

“Is there anything else to go in?”

I looked inside the drum, “Yes, but I’m not sure that anything else will fit in this load.”

Gemma laughed softly, “Fair enough.”

She then showed me which dials to turn and buttons to press. The machine rumbled, slowly filling the window up with water.

“Wow. That was overly simple.” I said, slightly embarrassed at my lack of technical know-how.

“Every machine’s different,” Gemma said, smiling and placing a hand on my arm. “Is there anything else I can do, before I run?”

I shook my head, “No, Gem. Thank you. For everything.”

“It’s not a problem, baby.” She said, enveloping me in a strong, florally scented hug. “You have my number, so call if you change your mind.”

“I will.” I tightened my arms around her briefly before pulling away.

“Okay, I’ll leave you kids to it.” 

And with that, the four of us were alone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I felt it was time for some Bon Jovi. You can't beat a good old dose of a classic sometimes. So here you go! 'Who Says You Can't Go Home'. Enjoy!  
> And as always, comments and CC are very very welcome! x


	5. 'Wasting My Hate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the delay in posting. I've kind of been swept up into holiday-mode and only realised today how much time has passed since my last update! Have no fear, I gave myself a severe slap on the wrist and touched up what I had already done, so here it is... a little shorter than I had originally planned, but an update all the same! I really hope you enjoy!

It had taken Jax a while, more than a few conversations and altercations over the past couple of days, to convince me to go to Teller-Morrow Automotive on the following Monday morning to apply for an opening that they had as a part-time mechanic. I had yet to break out go my funk where the men of SAMCRO, and by association the other mechanics of Teller-Morrow, were concerned and it felt to me to be a betrayal of some kind - whether to myself or to my father who had put so much into his relationship with the club only to have his orphaned children turned away, I had no idea - to go readily knocking on their front door, begging for a job after so recent and complete a rejection.

“A,” Jax sighed, humour lurking in the corners of his voice as he watched my face turn stony at the direction that our conversation was taking. “Come on, I know you’re maybe not too thrilled with the guys for their decision - and yes, I know that I was an active part of the way that went down,” he added hastily when I flicked my eyes up to meet his, quiet rage burning hot in their depths. “But think logically about this. You said you needed money. I’m not going to deny that it would be good for you to be able to stand on your own two feet. You also said that no one in town would hire you because of your connection to the club.”

I threw a disgruntled ‘where-the-hell-are-you-going-with-this-Jax?’ look at him and nodded sharply.

“Well, working at TM, even just within the garage, is like killing two birds with one stone, isn’t it? First, you get a paying job with people who know your situation enough to be lenient if anything came up with the boys. Second, the guys will get a chance to make it up to you. Hell, they’ve known you since before you were born. They’re going to take any opportunity that they get to repair whatever bonds got damaged in your last meeting.”

I frowned, still not entirely convinced. “That’s all well and fine, Jax, when you put it like that. But how do I know that they’re not going to turn me away again? How do I know that I can trust them not to turf me out at any given moment if I do get the job? I couldn’t take that. Not right now.”

He shrugged, frustration ebbing into his eyes and slowly drowning the humour that had previously resided there. “For fuck’s sake, Arya. You’re seriously overthinking this.” 

I stepped closer to him, my brows knitting closer together. “Am I?” I demanded, my voice raised louder than I had originally intended, my anger and discomfort at the situation in general getting the better of me. “They betrayed my trust, Jax. I trusted them to come through for me, having sent my father to his death-”

Jax gripped my arm tightly in his hand, his knuckles close to going white. “Don’t put that onto the club.” He growled. “We protect our own to the grave. Forbes knew how things could go down; he insisted on taking part in that last run. After Yassie… he needed something to fight, and it came back and bit us all in the ass. If you want to blame anyone, blame the fuckers that torched your house.”

I yanked myself out of his iron-like grip, but he simply pulled me back.

“The club has done good by you since the day that you were born - before then, even. We helped your dad pick himself back up after your mother died. We were willing to be sent looking for you when you pulled one of your fuckin’ disappearing acts. I was there every goddamn time something went wrong, and I still am. I’m offering you a place to set up a home, for godsake. Give them a fuckin’ chance to do the same. So they didn’t want you on the back of a motorcycle, getting shot at when a deal goes wrong. Big fuckin’ deal. Just grow up already and get your ass over there and set it all right."

“I can’t do this, Jax.” I pulled away again and ran my hands over my face, hiding myself from him for a moment. “I don’t want to fight any more.”

His touch had gentled considerably when he reached out to place his hand on the side of my neck. “You think I do?” I let my hands drop away, wanting to see the expression in his eyes. There was nothing present in his clear blues other than a softened desperation. “Jesus, A. You drive me nuts, you know that?”

A small smile spread across my lips and a reciprocal expression graced his face. “Yeah, it works both ways.” I said, rolling my eyes. 

As we continued to gaze at each other, the cogs in my head were whirring, slowly picking up speed, as I thought over all that he’d said. I was in no way happy about what he was proposing, but then I had known the club and all it’s members for my entire life, and walking away without giving them a chance to explain didn’t appear to be justifiable. And the more I turned the idea over in my mind, the more my thoughts were led towards the gorgeous Chevy Impala that I had seen parked in front of the garage, waiting patiently for a mechanic with the know-how to give it a service.

“Fine,” I muttered after it became clear that Jax was not going to surrender the reasonably companionable stare-down until I had answered in an appropriate manner. “I’ll go and see about the job. But,” I put one hand out, slapping it onto his leather-clad chest. “If something happens, or there’s something I don’t like, don’t expect me to hang around.”

Jax nodded, his signature smirk back in place. “That seems fair enough, darlin’.”

“Good.” I growled a little at the smug expression that his features had arranged themselves into, before snatching up my purse and phone and stalking out of the front door. “The boys are on your watch,” I called over my shoulder as I slammed the door closed.  

Without waiting for a reply, I paced across the driveway and swung myself into the driver’s seat of my beloved Eldorado. Turning the key in the ignition, I was greeted by the loud growl and low, warm toned rumble that I had come to associate with the feeling of home and safety.

Taking a deep breath, I stroked the steering wheel lovingly. “I can do this, ‘Dora.” I said into the empty car. “And I swear, none of those boys are gonna get their hands on you.” I pressed softly on the accelerator to roll out of the drive, and the gentle pull of the car beneath my feet was all the moral support I needed.

* * *

As always, being behind the wheel of my car and feeling the power of the engine rumbling beneath me as I crossed the mile or so of asphalt between Jax’s home and Teller-Morrow, a sense of calm washed over me and I began in earnest to accept what I was about to do. The thought of walking back through the door and putting everything in the past did fill me with dread, but the more that I considered it, the more I found the feeling to be unfounded. As Jax had said, before now the club had done good by me and my family, and my father had known the implications of whatever mess he had involved himself in - he would have known the increasing likelihood of the life that he led coming back to bite him in the ass. The men of SAMCRO, as far as I knew, had never meaningfully brought me pain or grief and had gone out of their way to make sure that it never landed on my doorstep. They had been the ones that had brought me home overtime I was too overwhelmed to do it on my own, offered me shelter within their own homes when my father and I had met complications in our relationship; they had sponsored my desire to head off to college out of state - despite the fact that I had decided against it when Yassie passed away giving birth to Pim, they had raised the money to support my taking classes at the local community college in order to increase my knowledge in classic cars, and had even helped me modify ‘Dora’ without charging me a cent for labour or the parts that I had imported in. And now it occurred to me, mainly because Jax had planted the seed of doubt against my misgivings, that they hadn’t in actual fact turned me away, they had just denied me the option of getting readily involved in something that could lead to me ending up stone-cold dead in a ditch on the side of some backwater highway. In doing this, they had not only been protecting my welfare, but also ensuring that my three younger brothers were not left without a guardian. They were really doing more for me than my own father had when he had returned home after his last run, bringing with him the dangers of his life.

Unchecked tears accompanied this epiphany, and without consciously doing it, I pressed my foot harder to the floor, desperate to return to the club and start healing the wounds that I had unknowingly created.

* * *

Cutting the roar of ‘Dora’s’ engine, I remained sat in the driver’s seat for a moment longer in an attempt to psych myself up enough to walk back across the lot. With my hands still gripping the wheel, I rested my hands over my fists and let out a loaded sigh.

“Pull yourself together, Arya. You’re stronger than this.” I muttered to myself. “You’ve been going in there since you were a kid. You can do this.” Manoeuvring my position so that my elbows lay on top of the wheel, I ran my hands over my head, fisting them in my hair for a second. Pushing back, I caught sight of myself in the rearview mirror and gave my reflection an ultimate stare-down. “You’ve got this.”

I paused for a second to wipe the residual make-up that had slipped down my skin with the rogue tears that I had not been fully aware of as I drove, and with that, I turned to the door in order to throw it open. I jumped as I came face to face with a grinning Chibs through the glass, as he stood on the other side of the door waiting for me to get out the car.

Opening the door, he offered me a hand out and waited for me to ride out my hesitation in taking it before he pulled me into a tight bear hug.

“It’s so good to see you, lassie.” He murmured in my ear, squeezing me a little tighter. “I was scared for a minute that we’d run you off.”

Pulling back a little against his chest, I met his gaze with a cheeky grin, my courage steadily climbing as normalcy began to kick back in. “I’m not that easy to get rid of, Filip.”

He chuckled, gripping my upper arms in a companionable way, and then began to pull me towards the office, his arm around my waist. “Jax called ahead and said you were considering a different position with us.”

I rolled my eyes as I fell into step beside him. “Of course he did.”

“Is it true, lass?”

I gave a half-assenting shrug, feeling his eyes boring into the side of my face.

“You really willing to let all that go? I mean, you know how to hold a grudge, Ary-girl.”

Again, I shrugged. “I guess it’s on the way to forgiven. But a hell of a long way from forgotten.”

Chibs sighed, “Yeah. I guess that’s the most we could possibly ask for, huh?”

I stopped in my tracks and turned to look at him. “Believe me, Chibs. Forgiving and forgetting was not on my agenda for the foreseeable future. But Jax can be one convincing bastard when he wants his way.” I met his gaze full on. “You’re family and it’s gonna take a fuck load of shit to change that, but that doesn’t mean I have to like any of you right now.”

He nodded. “Aye, girlie. I understand.” He put his hands on my shoulders and lowered his chin to cross gazes at my eye level. “I love you like you were my own, and I just want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. In fact, you ending up hurt or worse was what I was trying to avoid when I voted no.”

I placed my hand on his cheek, my eyes softening as I took on board what he had said. “I know, Chibby. I love you too. And I guess I want to apologise for jumping to conclusions, and not letting you guys explain your side.” I shrugged. “I don’t like being at odds with any of you."

It felt good to start to put our previous altercation behind me as I walked across the lot towards the office with Chibs. His arm was wrapped around my shoulders and he was chuntering on about the cars that were lined up for service, some of which would be of particular interest to me. I smiled briefly at the memory of that Impala as he said this.

As I opened the door to the office, Gemma jumped to her feet behind the desk and practically ran around it in order to sweep me into a suffocating hug. 

“Hey, baby.” She murmured before pulling back a way. She looked me straight in the eye - as she was well known to. “You’re making the right choice to come here, Arya. It’s what your father would have wanted.”

I nodded mutely, and offered her the best plastic-tasting smile that I had tucked in my arsenal. “Yeah, I guess so.”

She nodded back at me, suddenly all business-like. “Right. Well, as Jax has told you, there is a job opening for a mechanic who has specific knowhow with classic cars. These guys are all good and well, but when it comes to automotive needs, give them a bike any day.” She said, throwing a wink in my direction. I answered with a soft smile, as I thought about all the times I had seen the men of SAMCRO bent over car engines, emitting expletives and complaints about the lack of simplicity that was present in a motorcycle. “There’s a little bit of paperwork to do, but how about I get started on that and you go and acquaint yourself with your station and some of the cars?”

I nodded. “Thank you, Gemma.”

She shook her head, sweeping me back up into her arms and planting a sound kiss on my cheek. “There’s nothing to thank me for, baby. We’re family, and I’m just glad that you;re coming home.”

I tightened my arms around her waist. “Me too,” I murmured.

After a moment, we broke apart and she pushed me towards the door as she swiped a hand hastily beneath her eyes. “Go. I’ll call you in when everything is ready to be signed.”

I threw her a smile and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you in a bit,” I said and I walked out of the office, back into the Californian sunshine. 

Chibs was still waiting for me outside, puffing on a cigarette as he leant against the wall. “You all good?” he asked as I approached him.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “Gem’s gonna draw up the paperwork and let me know when it needs to be signed.”

“Good.” He ground his cigarette butt out with the heel of his boot. “Let’s go in and get you started, yeah?”

I nodded enthusiastically and followed him as he headed towards the open front of the garage building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Wasting My Hate' by Metallica. An old-school classic that could not be overlooked here. The choice of title song becomes pretty clear I hope, and to be honest, I think it's time that Arya realised that SAMCRO is more about protecting their own than anything else!
> 
> Please feel free to review (I get very excited hearing back from you!) and CC is just as welcome as anything else!
> 
> xxx


	6. Just The Way You Are (Billy Joel)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! There's something new on this story!  
> I'm sorry that it has taken so long for me to get this to you. It has been in the works for a while but unforeseen events prevented me from finishing it.  
> This chapter is perhaps not as long as I would ordinarily like to be posting, but I figured that anything was better than nothing, right?
> 
> Thank you so much for all sticking with me for so long. It's been a tough couple of months, but with a chilled and quiet Christmas coming up, I'm hoping to have a little (more like a lot!) more time to devote purely to writing! :)
> 
> Enjoy! X

I followed Chibs across the lot towards the picnic table just outside the entrance to the Clubhouse. I remained a few steps behind him, allowing him to take the lead and gifting myself a few extra seconds to evaluate the situation. I knew it was uncalled for to be so on edge around the SONS; they had, after all, been more than family since the day I was born.However, I still couldn't shake the fear of rejection - no matter how much Jax insisted that it was unprecedented.

As per usual during the opening hours of Teller-Morrow, the bench was heaving with SONS, clad in mechanics' shirts and overalls instead of their normal leather, all of whom were taking gross advantage of their allotted smoke breaks. As we neared them, more than a few turned around to watch our approach. Tig was the first to draw my attention, his crystal blue eyes softening a little as they made contact with mine. He stood to meet us and it took everything that I had not to hang my head in shame.

Jax, of course, had been right. These men were family, and they were more than prepared - as they always had been - to welcome me with open arms, regardless of my faults and failings. Tig stepped up to me and gathered me in his arms, pulling me into his chest and laying a kiss on the crown of my head as I nestled my forehead into the fabric of his shirt.

"So glad you came back, doll," he whispered. "It's been quieter here without you."

I fisted my hands in the back of his shirt and willed the seemingly ever present tears to hold their fire. I nodded minutely against him, mumbling a soft apology that I was sure only he could hear.

Tig chuckled a little. "You don't got to apologise to me, baby girl." He lay another kiss on my hair and raised his voice a little to clue his brothers in on the situation as it stood. "These miserable bastards might need to hear it though. The idiot especially; boy, does he know how to hold a grudge."

There was gentle round of guffaws and chuckling that ran through the crowd of men. It was always hard for me to understand why so many were afraid of them. Sure, their enemies had a right to be - the SONS could rear and nurture a beef with the best of them - but the ones under their protection, the civilians of Charming, they need only to have looked behind the gruff, rough and tough exteriors to find true men with morales and familial orientations.

I pulled away from Tig as the laughter died down and turned to face the group behind us. Ducking my head a little, I focused on my hands as they fidgeted, tangling themselves together in front of me.

"I know that I said some fucking stupid things the last time that I was here. They were mean and completely unjustified. With Dad..." I took a moment to gather my breath and stem the floods that were reined in behind my ears. "It's been tough month or so. But regardless, I shouldn't have taken all my frustration, anger - and whatever else - out on you. It wasn't fair. I'm sorry."

There was a silence that followed in which I could feel my stomach churning, my heart pounding; if they were ever going to reject me, leave me stranded in the sea of confusion and despair that had rapidly become my life, it would be now.

I heard Bobby's distinctive chuckle and raised my eyes to find them all watching me with warm eyes and softened smiles on their lips.

"Are you kidding me?" Juice piped up, an incredulous expression gracing his amiable face. He broke ranks and pulled me to him tightly. "Don't be stupid."

"N' that's comin' from the idiot himself, lass," Chibs cut in.

Another wave of laughter rippled through the SONS as they simultaneously began stamping out their cigarettes and rising from their various perches.

"Time for a little more work, ladies," Clay announced, clapping his hands in order to round up the herd before throwing a wink in my direction. "Plenty of time for play later."

* * *

By the time my lunch break came around, my washed out denim cut-off denim shorts were visibly threaded with engine oil and grease, whilst the TM t-shirt that I had pilfered from Jax's dorm room appeared to be holding its own against the grime - though perhaps the black fabric helped to disguise any severe losses in the war.

By the end of the day, the shirt and the bandana that I had hastily wrapped my hair up with, had both lost the battle against the grease. I was covered head to toe, just like the grease monkey my father had raised should be.

I was happily humming, buried deep in the engine of the '67 Impala that I had spied on the lot, blissful to finally be back safely within my comfort zone. There was something about the mechanics, the metallic veins of the machine that I was instantly comfortable with. Maybe it was that every issue had a fix, every question an answer. There was nothing that could go so horrendously wrong within the steel frame that it couldn't be hammered out, warped back or simply replaced.

I barely heard Jax's approach over the obnoxiously loud speakers that were blaring hair metal bands, seemingly on repeat. Not that I had anything against Bon Jovi or Def Leppard, in moderation.

He snagged my foot and whipped me out from underneath the car, leaving me to decelerate at an alarmingly slow pace as I rocketed across the garage floor. I steeled myself for an inevitable collision, only to be grabbed by a cackling Scotsman and brought to an abrupt halt mere inches away from the open office door.

Jax was practically doubled over as laughter ripped through him. He attempted to sober himself as I leapt up off the creeper and all but flew across the garage to whack him soundly around the head, a large grin splitting my face.

"C'mon, darlin'. Don't know about you, but I'm ready to go home," he choked out.

Club business had been handled during the day, and with no Church immediately looming, it left us free to do just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Just The Way You Are'. A Billy Joel classic. (Not to be confused with the Bruno Mars song; not that I have any qualms whatsoever regarding that!)  
> To be honest, it just felt right. It's always held a very potent feeling of home for me - perhaps because my parents are massive fans of good ole Billy's and even took me to one of his concerts while my mum was still pregnant with me (apparently I loved it...) - and the lyrics fit perfectly.


End file.
